#prompt 3: free day

[unbloomingmoonflower]

FFXIVWrite2023 Prompt 3: Free Day

Air couldn't fill her lungs fully. No, it kept escaping, kept being stolen from her, as she relived the white-hot fury and mind-numbing pain at infiltrating Castrum Meridianum.

There were so many of them that even after they've cleared the place out, Shuri couldn't catch her breath. Sweat dripped from her brow as she struggled to hide her discomfort, but she couldn't. She couldn't.

Not while vision of crimson lifeblood splattered on newly fallen snow continued to flicker in her vision and no longer behind her eyelids. Not while the cacophony of screams and clashing blades echoed in her horns and deep into her subconsciousness to pull the most devastating memory of her life to the fore.

So overcome she was that Shuri flinched when hands were upon her, mismatched eyes blinking to gain her focus back to the face of Cid. His brows were knitted in concern and Shuri all but recoiled from his touch. She was torn asunder by her conflicting feelings.

Cid was of Garlemald, his genius hailed from a young age there. Circumstances found him in Eorzea, where he discarded the ideals of Garlemald. He hasn't been one of them in so long, but Shuri struggled to reconcile that with the fact that he was one of them. One of the barbarians that slaughtered her entire tribe.

But Cid had treated her ever so kindly. He was her friend. Wasn't he? So what of his lineage? That shouldn't matter. Tried as she might to keep telling herself this, but Shuri couldn't stop the pain in her heart. The loss that haunted her, its ghosts wailing for her to not believe that anyone who had fled Garlemald truly left their ideals.

No, she admonished herself. That's wrong.

She couldn't think like this. No, this was wrong. This was utterly wrong.

"Shuri." Cid's voice called to her, the concern still there in spite of her reaction. "Are you all right? Do you need a moment to rest?"

"We can't," was Shuri's answer, choked with every strained breath. "We have to stop Gaius. We have to stop the Ultima Weapon. Can I count on you, Cid?"

The question was a double-edged sword, but one that Cid already seemed to have the answer to. He nodded, his expression now resolute. "You can. I promise."

[shiamiko]

『Who's the puppet?』

[seedleedle]

Day 2: Napping of @novalizinpeace ‘s CatNap’s Catober Prompts!!

[thedeadthree]

-ˋˏ .·:·. ⊱ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐛𝐲 @pavus — day one: 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

— 𝐈𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐑 . 𝐕𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈 𝐃𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀 . 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄.

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐒. 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐒.

— 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (mutuals can opt in/out via 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 <3):

@loriane-elmuerto, @carrionsflower, @auricfog, @girliefailure, @sunsofdawn

@risingsh0t, @griffin-wood, @lilywatt, @full---ofstarlight, @grapecaseschoices

@tommyarashikage, @shadowsofrose, @shadowglens, @weisshaupts, @queennymeria

@deadrlngers, @d-esmond, @courtana, @gothimp, @wlwaerith

@unholymilf, @aezyrraeshh, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @shellibisshe, @florbelles

@celticwoman, @neonshrike, @cloudofbutterflies92, @adelaidedrubman, @carlosoliveiraa

@pinkfey, @spookyrares, @yharnams, @aceghosts, @confidentandgood

@theelderhazelnut, @leviiackrman, @ellierenae, @anoras, @lavampira

@dialdrunk, @full---ofstarlight, @imogenkol

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

What if Christos Lawton is the one responsible for putting I Say A Little Prayer For You on the official George Hodgson playlist. What then. On the one hand I would have to set myself on fire but on the other hand it would be FANTASTIC news for whoever authored my all time favorite post on the Cold Boys Kink Meme

[p3girlsweek]

Hey everyone! P3GirlsWeek2024 will be taking place from August 5th - 11th, here is this year's prompts!

You can read the rules and guidelines for the event here!

Text version of the prompts can be found under the read more.

Day 1: Festival / Music / Comfort Day 2: Dark Hour / Training / Dorm Life Day 3: Childhood / Future / Promise Day 4: Fashion / Girl’s Night Out / First Date Day 5: Grief / Companion / Memento Day 6: La Dolce Vita (the sweet life) / Celebration / Crisis Day 7: Sleepover / Swap / Free Day!

The prompts listed above are only suggestions, feel free to interpret and combine them however you like. Happy planning!

[notacowfest]

sign-ups are closing soon!

we have a little over a week before signups close on March 21 — if you've been thinking about participating in the fest but haven't gotten around to signing up yet, now's the perfect time to check it out. there are already plenty of amazing prompts to take a look at if you want some inspiration, but we'd love to see even MORE prompts if you have some ideas of your own!

reminder — you don't need to claim a prompt to participate in the fest. and if you want to leave some prompts but aren't sure if you'll be able to write for a the fest, that's also perfectly fine! the trade deadline shook things up and i'm sure everyone's got some ideas about the stars fic they'd like to see in the world right about now. drop a prompt about it! write a fic about it!! come hang out!!!

ao3 collection  —  HERE!

faq  —  HERE!

rules  —  HERE!

Schedule 

Prompts & Sign-Ups Close: March 21, 2025

Fics due: June 18, 2025

Fics go live: June 20, 2025

Authors revealed: June 23, 2025

[lunar-alden]

Xavier calls you his girlfriend (English dub)

Pt 2!

Pet Names Masterpost!

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets Thursday

The next part of the one where I made Damas catch a virus because inconveniencing serious characters is funny (found HERE)

This time I give Jak a hard time, dealing with cranky sick rulers 😆 Spargans speak Mando'a as a second language in this story Because I Said So, but there's translations lol

Jak was not having a good day. First that business with Kwan at the garages, then getting scolded like a kid by Damas (wasn't trying to cause trouble-!), and now Blackwater?!

Worse, it was very clearly his fault that the freaking king of Spargus was out for the count. No one still carried that disease except for himself, Daxter, Samos, and Keira. And only one of those four was both in Spargus and a channeler.

The joint pain, the eardrum pressure, the fluid in the lungs-! All of it was Jak's fault!

Suffice it to say that Jak was not his best self when he stormed back into the throne room to collect charred wood from the braziers. It wasn't quite the same kind of driftwood that Samos used to use for the remedy in Sandover, but it was close enough in chemical makeup -- he hoped. When the elevator gears began turning, Jak wanted to throw something. Now was not the time for people to come looking for work or for someone to settle disputes. Priorities, people!

A round man with three jagged scars across his forehead barged out of the elevator with a purposeful stride. When he saw Jak, he faltered, and stopped to look around, clearly expecting Damas to be somewhere in the room.

"You there," he barked, "boy! Where's the king?"

"Busy."

Jak shoved the coal into his belt pouch and wiped his hands on his shirt.

"Come back later."

The man didn't like that. He puffed out his chest and glowered at Jak’s back.

"This is important!"

"I'll take a message."

Jak rolled his eyes.

"Damas isn't taking appointments right now."

"I ought to box your ears, boy," the Wastelander snarled, "You think you speak for the king?"

Jak turned and faced him. He looked almost bored.

"I speak from experience, buddy. And you're welcome to try. But I can't promise you'll like what happens."

The man -- Ektor, Jak would later discover -- stormed up the walkway, clearly intending on some kind of confrontation.

"When you're done playing, go get the bloody king."

"I said he's busy!"

Jak planted his feet and met Ektor's glare, just daring him to push his luck when he had the high ground.

"What's important enough to go bother him, huh?"

Ektor did not have a particularly good impression of Jak. Kid just shows up out of nowhere, turns into a demon -- literally -- in the ring a couple times and suddenly thinks he can walk around the tower without a summons? Like he owns the place? This brat was just looking for trouble. And Ektor consoled himself with the knowledge that when the king caught him in the act, it wouldn't be pretty.

"How about Apex Metalheads moving in a bloody pack formation, just ten miles from the city! Is that "important enough" for you, "your highness"?"

Jak furrowed his brow.

"Again? Wouldn't Kleiver already have headed out to deal with that?"

The look Ektor gave him was almost pitying.

"This is why bloody children got no place in the ranks!" he groused. "No, Kleiver isn't "headed out". They're too close to the city, idiot! He's on the turrets!"

This was not what Jak needed right now. Growling, he turned on his heel and snatched up his talk-box.

"Dax, I need you to take the coal and get that medicine made. I gotta go deal with something."

"H'oh boy. How bad of a Something?"

"Average." Jak unhooked the leather pouch and dropped it on the throne in tense motions. "It'd be faster if you were on the guns, but somebody has to hold things down here. I've got the Beam Reflexor. See you in a couple hours."

"Roger roger, good buddy. I am very on-board with not going on whatever dangerous hunt this is."

"Yeah. You get the fun job."

"....suddenly not so on-board."

Jak stowed the radio, tightened his bracers, and turned back to Ektor with a sigh.

"Alright, show me where they are."

Ektor looked at him a little differently now.

"Kleiver wasn't kidding about you having some kind of death wish," he said, shaking his head with a low oath.

Ektor wasn't the only person Jak ran afoul of in the coming evening.

Damas did not want to stay in the apartment.

The temporary relief the first of the ten charcoal mixtures had provided gave him a false sense of strength, clearing away the pain and the respiratory difficulty. Damas thought he could just go back to work like nothing had happened!

Jak was bone-weary, fingers still numb from how many times he'd shot components off the backs of the Apex Metalheads. There'd be an absolute goldmine of salvage for the next round of scouts. All Jak wanted to do was sleep. But someone kept trying to jeopardize his recovery.

Jak braced himself against the door controls, blocking a man just as stubborn as he was. They glared at each other while Daxter ignored them both to grind up the next charcoal batch. Damas tried to reach around him, and Jak knocked his arm away just as quickly. His reaction time was slowed with exhaustion, and his reluctant patient took advantage of that.

Damas took hold of the iron ring over Jak's chest. He had enough strength back to lift Jak up to eye-level, leaving him on his tiptoes.

"I will not," he hissed, "be kept back like a witless noble when I have duties to attend to. Do not test me, boy."

Jak barely flinched.

"And then what? You collapse into one of the pools when the eco toxin rebuilds? Are you trying to get sicker?!"

"Not to mention," Daxter called, more calmly than Damas thought the situation warranted, "There's already peeps who act like bein' king around here only lasts until you show weakness. And frankly, I don't want any of those suckers in charge. Just take the vacation already, would you?!"

The boys had a point. He hated that the boys had a point. Hated that he'd been reduced to relying on children just to stand.

"You think they will not already assume weakness if I abandon my duties for three days?" Damas demanded.

Jak lifted his chin. "I already told everyone who came in that you were busy."

Damas pulled Jak a little closer by the ring, too astonished to even notice that he’d left the door controls free.

"You were not authorized to make that call."

Frustration bubbled in his veins, tipping too close to anger for his liking.

"Fine. Go out then. Get them all sick. Get the whole city sick, why don’t you! Go ahead!”

“Copaani mirshmure'cye, ‘ad?” Damas muttered under his breath.

You looking for a fight, boy?

Not like he needed to keep his voice down. He knew no one had taught the boys more than a few sentences in Joha -- the language Wastelanders used in front of enemies -- yet.

Jak pried Damas’s hand loose and dropped to the balls of his feet.

"You won't slow down for your own sake? How about theirs?"

Anger stirred the eco in Damas’s blood, and the eco circulated too close to the virus in his core. The pain began again, a dull ache for now that promised future knives in his lungs.

"Don't you dare, boy-" he warned.

Jak dared, apparently.

He had the temerity to push Damas, shoving him back a step.

"I deal with this all the time and it puts me down for days! You've never had it! It could kill you, don't you care?!"

Seeing the black look on the king's face, Jak pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled sharply.

"This is going to get worse before it gets better. And it's my fault you caught the virus, so I'm not going anywhere until it passes. It's hell staying inactive. I know. It's-"

His voice quieted.

"It's like the Fortress. You're in pain, and you can't leave, and you know more pain is coming. But- but at least yours only lasts three days."

Damas faltered.

Jak had not told him the story of what Praxis had done to him willingly. Damas had walked into the washrooms below the Arena by chance just as Jak had been patching himself up after earning his second war amulet. And the scars he'd seen were not the kind a young fighter picked up in combat. The shame on the boy's face as he'd scrambled to get his wrist wrappings and shirt back on had struck a chord in Damas. Without really knowing why, he'd taken off his vambrace in the space of a minute, and moved back the wrappings to show the shine of old burns.

He'd spent more than his fair share of time on "excavations" -- a pretty word for Wastelanders being punished by the former king, left carving out of the cliff what eventually became the stables. By hand. In chains. In the midday heat. A lot of men died working that wall.

He didn't know why he'd told Jak that story. Why he'd told Jak about the two years when he was in chains more than out of them.

And yet it had meant something to Jak.

In that moment, a dam seemed to burst in the boy. The whole sordid tale had bubbled out of him in a tangle of words and desperation. He spoke as though he'd never encountered anyone who understood what it was to be that kind of survivor. To bear those kinds of scars. Like someone who had been asked why he couldn’t just “get over it” when the evidence was in his skin forever. He spoke like he was expelling poison from a wound.

That thought rang in Damas’s mind like a solemn bell.

Jak had overstepped, that was undeniable. But he seemed...

He seemed like he was desperate to keep the closest thing he had to a kindred spirit alive. The boy was legitimately afraid for him, wasn’t he?

Jak looked up again to meet his eyes, and there was a lot more emotion there than Damas had been expecting.

"Please," Jak insisted, "Just- Just rest! One more day, at least one more day, please!"

Damas felt a new round of pain beginning, starting in his vertebrae this time. Still, he couldn't just back down.

"Jak," he tried to gentle his voice past the harshness of pain. "I...know you do not understand what being king means. What is required."

"If it means breaking yourself down to bloody bones for people who will never be grateful, then yeah. He understands," Daxter said bitterly.

"Come on," Jak sounded like he was scolding now, "Didn't you say you have to pick your battles wisely sometimes?"

Oh confound that boy.

Damas’s spine twinged, but pride did not let him bend. Even so, Jak seemed to sense his pain. He sighed and, without a single word -- not even "I told you so" -- he offered his shoulder to support Damas long enough to get him back to the couch. Damas’s face burned with frustration and shame alike. To lose control of his body and have to do as the boy sais was infuriating. A little of that pique left him before he had time to guard his tongue.

"For the record, since you lack experience in the matter, most fathers would not tolerate being spoken to in such a manner by their sons."

Jak stiffened, and Damas regretted it. He knew that was a sore spot for the boy and he'd carelessly lashed out anyway.

Jak gave him a Look.

"Well you're the closest thing I got to one, so you’ll just have to deal with it.”

Damas actually winced. Jak seemed to mistake it for physical pain and sighed again.

"I'll get you more water. You're gonna need it in a minute."

"Less than a minute." Daxter glared at the king as he held up another glass of the vile liquid.

"Guess what, buddy? That attitude just earned you one free trip to Vomit Town."

"Dax," Jak called over his shoulder, "He's in pain as it is. You don't have to rub it in."

Daxter narrowed his eyes at Damas. He pointed silently at Jak’s back, then at Damas. Dramatically, he drew a finger across his throat: a clear warning of what would happen if Damas brought up absent parents again.

At the moment, Damas was more occupied with both the sensation of the virus congealing the eco in his core into an infected mass, and the mixed emotions he had about Jak’s parting shot.

"You're the closest thing I got to one", he'd said. The closest thing Jak had to a father. Him?!

Confound that boy. How does he always catch me off guard so easily?

More as a peace offering than anything else, he muttered, "Did you at least give them a reason?"

"Who?"

"Everyone you told I was busy. Did you give them a reason?" he pressed.

Jak returned with a recycled bottle filled with water.

"Yeah. But you're probably not going to like that, either," he said matter-of-factly. He nodded at the charcoal.

"Probably don't one-shot it this time."

"Don't tell me what to do," Damas grumbled rebelliously. But he noticeably didn't chug the medicine.

He'd survived on worse foods before. But that was irrelevant to his gag reflex. It took some doing to swallow the first sip, and each one after that got harder.

"Tell me what you told them, Jak." He narrowed his eyes over the rim of the glass. "I can't help you out of whatever mess you're determined to get yourself into if I don't know what I'm walking into."

Jak was generous enough to let Damas keep his pride. He shrugged and dropped to sit next to him with the weary expression of someone twice his age.

"I said you were researching the tunnels under Haven for something, and to mess up your concentration at their own risk."

Damas forced the last of the charcoal down in one gulp. Soon it would start absorbing the two enmeshed ecos that had caused the infection, and he'd be able to get some relief for a few more minutes. Physical relief, anyway. His mind was racing. That excuse- Jak wasn't supposed to know about the invasion plan. It was an "utmost end of need" scenario: if the Daystar impacted on the planet, he wanted his people safe in the Underport.

"And what..." he had to choose his words carefully.

He would overlook the major breaches in protocol Jak was tossing around like confetti. The boy's heart was in the right place. And it was very Spargan to act first and ask permission after. But he still wouldn't give Jak top secret information! If Jak was getting into dossiers he has no business touching-

"What made you think of tunnels?" Damas muscled through another painful spasm and feigned a teasing tone. "Planning to invade Haven, are you?"

Beside him, Jak's cheek twitched in an exhausted equivalent of a smile.

"Wishful thinking, honestly. But they bought it."

"For now."

Damas dug his fingers into the couch as the coughs he'd hoped to avoid made their next appearance.

"But you- still- can't-" the hacking overtook the rest of his words.

Jak scoffed. "It's not like I was making any decisions for you. They were all jobs you would've sent somebody to deal with anyway."

He lurched to the side as the first of the gel-like corrupted eco eruptions shot from Damas’s mouth and into a bucket Daxter had found. Poor guy. He had about three more rounds of the medicine, three hours apart, before the coughing gave way to just vomiting. Unfortunately that part lasted a whole day before giving way to musculoskeletal pain and vertigo.

Blackwater sucked.

"I'll take over, Dax," Jak yawned. "Go get some rest. You good with doing this tomorrow?"

He didn't ask Damas, notably.

"What're you gonna do this time?”

Jak fought to keep his eyes open. "Seem lost a party of monks in the volcano. I said I'd look into it. Probably going to end up putting the fear of Precursors into the asshole in the North Market who just started overcharging rookies for water to the point where they're stealing it. I said I'd look into that, too."

"Did you." The ottsel didn't sound that surprised. "And how, in your infinite grasp of diplomacy, did that go?"

A little too tired to be embarrassed, Jak made a helpless gesture.

"I said Damas was busy, and they'd better deal with their issues before I came over to deal with it for them."

"Yeah," Daxter sighed, "I was afraid you were gonna say something like that."

It was a little disturbing how the boy seemed to have set himself in a role like an enforcer. Like Sig's cover act in Haven.

"That's. Not. Your job," Damas gasped between retching coughs.

"I know: you said," Jak acknowledged. He rubbed his face with fingers just barely shaking. "Too late to take it back now."

He thought Damas was still upset about the crossing of boundaries he'd done. It was more than wounded pride that drew his concern though. Older feelings. Unpleasant memories.

"Crowns. Were not m- meant. To. Weigh. Down the. Young." Damas managed to fight through the pain in his joints to elbow Jak.

"Not. Your burden to. Bear."

Jak hesitated. Then,

"I know.”

[tohruies]

hi hi mrs yao !!!! christmas is coming up, are you going to celebrate anythinf with xiangli ? :33 btw, since miss coco doesnt have a tree, here's a little something to say thank you for being one of my lovely moots 🥺

oh! 😁 hi hello mr puppetgear! 😁 christmas celebrations with xiangli you ask! 😁 well actually! 😁 you see, i was th— *dies upon seeing the image you’ve attached to this ask* 😳😲🤯😱😱😱😵💀🪦

[somanyfuckedupiftruebooks]

Here's my submission for @jonmartinweek Day 3: Timeloops / Recordings & Found Footage. I decided to challenge myself this year by posting one long fic instead of an anthology of one-shots, so here's the first chapter of a TMA/Oxenfree crossover I've been working on for way too long now.

~

All ye, all ye, outs in free

‘...soon I shall be so I cannot remember any but the things that never happened.’

‘Martin, stop it!’ Jon snapped. His hand was in his pocket, grip white-knuckled around his portable radio. He’d been hearing static, a burst of interference so loud that it had drowned out Martin’s voice entirely for a moment, but when Jon pulled the radio out of his pocket to check it, he saw that it was switched off. 

Of course it was switched off. They hadn’t reached the island yet, and he wanted to save the batteries for the cave.

(Read the rest on Ao3.)

[biblically-accurate-dca]

@vanweek2024 day 1 - freedom

couldn't think of anything good for an actually serious drawing for this prompt so i just did this

[amourcherie606]

i unfortunately dont got time for rendering so ft polyweek prompts will be coming in like doodles me thinks <3 anyway GRAYLOLU SUPREME HURRAHHHH I LOVE YURI!!! lucy is wearing grays clothes lokes wearing lucys, and gray has lokes (you cant see it tho :3)

[velvetwyrme]

oouuouua please make a follow up on the superhero pap x reader theyre one of my favorites also im excited to see tf fic from yuo

im glad you enjoyed it!!! i got a comment on it recently while i was thinking abt how to continue it and that seemed to click my brain into action LMAO

EHEHEHE hopefully! soon!! ive got a few things in mind but im also waffling over Really Starting because i have so many things ongoing but... auauugh the IDEAS plague me!!!!

also heres a sneak peek into my brain because im in the mood to chatter, but feel free to skip it if you so desire:

for Origin Story im LOOSELY planning any continuation/s to be kinda standalone stories all centered around a superhero trope (like the Origin Story ;]) because i think that could be fun to work with. i enjoyed writing some of the larger Undertale cast, something that i WOULD have liked to do in FF, except Edge and the MC in that are both pretty reclusive socially abfjfbdjdghkf,, oh well.

anyway. i have tons of ideas for the various tropes, so its really a matter of picking a place and Writing. i really want to feature more of Alphys in this because i love her dearly <3

as for TF fic... most of them are reader inserts unsurprisingly lmaooo but ive got a few non-reader inserts floating around there too. im kinda just throwin stuff at the walls of my mind to see what sticks, but heres a few of my draft titles for your perusing pleasure:

into the fire: noble-ish au with a human reader who is supposed to be gifted to one of the members of the household. reader makes a failed escape attempt torn bedsheet style and is saved :] inspired loosely by the visual novels i used to read/play back in high school LMAO. skeletiano, i will forever be sad i could not romance you.

between you, me and soundwave: reader writes rpf abt mechs on earth LMAO. i see people mention humans writing fanfic about Cybertronians in passing but i think itd be funny to put that at the forefront. extremely silly and low stakes fic. probably.

drift compatibility: mecha! pilot! au!! exists purely because i read 1 (one) fic about plugsuits and just went "hmnngh... mecha pilots are fun to imagine interacting with Cybertronians... also there's DRIFT compatibility... i can totally do some fucked up shit with that" and now it's spiralled wildly out of control because at some point i started thinking about Governments and Social Structures and got distracted with worldbuilding lol. i have many many many ideas and i can only hope i can string some of them together so I can EXPLODE it out of my brain either through writing or art. also theres smut that happens wayyyy down the line which ill probably end up writing first and posting separately LMAO

penance is a prison: my take on Titan AU but as a fic because my brain is so so full of thoughts abt this au. i'll probably just end up drawing a lot of these scenes instead but like. its there! partially written!! im emotions abt it!!!

self explanatory long title: human/borrower au constructicons/jazz/prowl poly. i love rare not-so-pairs a lot and im particularly fond of this set. also i just like thinking abt either jazz and prowl getting menaced by a bunch of tiny guys OR the opposite where a group of construction workers have two borrower roommates. this one is more just random idea dumps instead of a fic but still fun to think about LMAO

ALSO! MINI REC. while you wait for me to (eventually maybe) write TF fic, you should check out boostergoldishh's works on ao3 for some tasty tasty TF reader insert fics. im still planning on making a rec list but they updated today and im filled w/ much love for good writing.

and as a bonus if you got this far (thank you!!): the super secret draft chapter title for the next NEXT FF chapter because its pretty silly

if my cowriter sees this hi. ill share the doc soon but its pretty much empty, its just there to remind me whats coming next LMAO 👍

[waterfallofspace]

Fy/odor from bsd?

(again assuming this is for bingo~) I'd love to!~ Ah, horrible awful men that are goddamn gorgeous, how I hate to love you and love to hate you <3

Bingo under the cut!~ & rambles

I definitely think this man gets sick way too often, and is quite sensitive to cold, and this is- this is basically canon (though the anime cuts it out because thEy Hate uS sob.) and I think he's definitely the type to keep working on what he is, maintain composure, but be slowly crumbling before their eyes (wants to be more subtle than he is, but points to him, it will never stop him, even when he's so dizzy from the fever he can barely stand)

I also hc quite hard that he is allergic to like, all of nature. The outside Does Not Agree With Him. And for Lore/Spoiler reasons or not, I don't think medication helps much, and he's quite against it since it might interact.... interestingly with his body at times~

I also think his buildups are long, and he suffers from false starts a lot, but you wouldn't be able to tell from the outside (unless you're someone like dazai, nikolai, ranpo, etc. either a 'genius' or someone who knows him/hangs around him a lot) and that he can quite easily 'lose' them, though given he's almost always trying not to sneeze, i'm not sure 'lose' is the right word~

Also def a chronic stifler who has those rapid fits where you aren't sure they're breathing, though he recovers swiftly and gracefully- can just duck to the side with like 12 bottled up stifles painfully piled over each other, and then just stand up and resume speech as normal~

[nyahobi]

sanji week day 7 !!!! FUCK THIS POST AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY SANJI.

based on fall out boy's album cover obviously